


Fishy

by Arukou



Series: Tumblr Archive [47]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Gen, Merfolk AU, merman steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 03:30:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7558420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arukou/pseuds/Arukou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doing surveys of tidal algae, Tony stumbles over something completely unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fishy

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://arukou-arukou.tumblr.com/post/147548781971/crazyk-c-since-a-lot-of-you-mentioned-mersteve).
> 
> Check out the link because this was inspired by some pretty [awesome art](http://crazyk-c.tumblr.com/post/100607854709/since-a-lot-of-you-mentioned-mersteve-maybe-he).

Tony doesn’t know how he gets himself into these things. He really doesn’t. Hell, he’s not even really a specialist in large denizens of the deep. He studies the biochemistry of bio-luminescent plankton and algae blooms in hopes of better understanding how climate change is affecting the smallest critters in the ocean and thereby hopefully getting politicians’ heads out of their asses. And if he discovers compounds that might lead to organic power generators in the midst of his research, well great! More funding!

So when he’s wading through remote tide pools on the Rock Islands in Palau and he sees a merman, at first, it doesn’t really compute. His brain kind of stutters to the right and then stalls because the man he’s looking at is blonde and the people of Palau are decidedly not blonde. Another researcher? Some rich hoity-toity guy out snorkeling on his privately owned yacht? Tony can dream. Ever since his dad cut him off, he does occasionally think about how having a sugar daddy would make getting his research done a hell of a lot easier.

But then he realizes there’s something really, _really_ strange about the blonde. Namely, the lack of legs. Or rather, the presence of a tail. A silvery blue dolphin tail. Is the guy a poacher? Should Tony be radioing the authorities? Is the heat getting to him? He blinks and rubs at his eyes, and then hisses when the salt stings at them.

Blondie’s head jerks up at the sound and he shrinks down into the tidal pool where he’s reclining. 

“Hey!” Tony calls, waving now that he’s definitely been spotted. “Just what are you doing out here?”

The guy, the blonde, shakes his head and dips even deeper, until only his eyes and nose poke out of the water. That dolphin tail. Tony definitely imagined it, right? Right? But as he draws closer, close enough to see past the glare of the sun into the clear water, he sees that the tail is decidedly attached to the blonde. At the waist.

The petri dish in his hand clatters to the rocks because apparently today is going to be the day that he goes crazy so why bother with specimens anymore? Rhodey and Pep are up the beach about two miles away. He’ll walk back and ask them to wrap him in a straight jacket and haul him back to the main island because what else is there to do.

By now, Tony’s close enough that if he wanted to, he could bend down and touch the blonde’s shoulder. The…the hallucination is watching him with sharp wary eyes, and before Tony really knows what’s happening, a hand shoots out of the water and grabs his ankle, hauling him down into the warm tide pool. It’s deep enough that he doesn’t hit the rocks right away, but his hip catches on a boulder and it hurts like mad, and suddenly Tony has to wonder if maybe this isn’t a hallucination because blondie is over him, big hands on his shoulders and eyes frantic.

Suddenly presented with proof that maybe his mind isn’t playing tricks on him, Tony looks at the blonde…he is not going to use the term merman. That’s just silly. There’s no such thing. Definitely not one holding him and maybe getting ready to drown him and drag his body down to the depths. Nope. No mermen here.

“If you’re going to drown me, you might as well get it over with,” he says, because he’d prefer not to have to wait on death. “Or better yet, snap my neck or something. A lot quicker than drowning. Probably less traumatic. Do you even speak English?”

Blondie, if anything, looks confused, and after a moment he takes a hand off Tony’s shoulder so he can put a finger to his lips. Well, that gesture is pretty universal in any language, at least. Tony figures he’s already at the guy’s mercy so what the hell, and nods. After a moment, Blondie surprisingly backs off and lifts his tail for Tony’s inspection. It’s then that he sees a deep cut along one tail fluke and quickly realizes that there’s deep sea fishing line wrapped tight and biting into the rubbery gray flesh.

“Holy shit,” Tony breathes, and then looks at Blondie’s face. “How did that, oh god, we’ve gotta, have you got…” The merman, because Jesus fuck it’s a merman and Tony has more important things to think about than nomenclature, holds up a sharpened rock and leans down, trying ineffectually to wedge it beneath the viciously tight line and his flesh. Tony can see points where the skin has rubbed raw pink with failed attempts. 

“Wait right there. I can, you, wait.” Tony holds up his hands, fingers spread wide, and hopes that the message gets through. Then he scrambles out of the warm salt water and dives for his pack, fumbling out a Swiss army knife. He runs back, but slows when he gets close to the edge of the pool, seeing the way Blondie immediately draws away, eyes still wary. Tony holds up his hands again, trying to keep his posture open and gentle. “I’m going to help you. Promise. Let me help. Please?” He tries for a smile, and that seems to restore some confidence in Blondie, because he rises out of the water a little and flips his tail onto the rocks just above the tide pool line.

Tony crouches down and studies the fishing line, wincing when he sees the knot. It’s a tangle, pressing into the bottom side of the fluke, and Tony’s not sure he can get it up enough to cut just that. The merman probably already tried on his own. But Tony’s got to get the knife under it somehow.

“Just…I’m sorry. This is going to hurt worse for a minute. But then it’ll be better. I promise. Just, I’m sorry.”

The merman seems to understand, though, because he nods, and grits his teeth, purposefully looking away as Tony leans in. It takes some fiddling–more fiddling than Tony had wanted–to get the line up enough to slip his knife under it, but the merman never twitches. He holds perfectly still as the line snaps free and then immediately sags with relief.

Tony stares at the wound that remains. It must’ve been tangled up for quite a while, because it looks like the skin had started trying to heal around the line. It’s puffed up and angry, but there’s almost no blood, and the cut looks scarred rather than fresh. It’s a wonder he was swimming around long enough for the wound to look so old; Tony guesses that it probably slowed him down and hurt pretty badly. And how did he…hunt? Do merpeople hunt? Now that the immediate emergency has passed, Tony has so many questions. But first…

“Are you hungry?” Tony asks, pressing at his belly and miming eating to make sure the message gets across. The merman–-Tony really needs a name for him–-tilts his head and blushes furiously when his stomach rumbles. He gestures at the tide pool, though, and snatches up a crab, dashing it against the rocks with almost lightning speed. Tony watches with morbid fascination as the merman sucks the guts and meat out through the hole in the carapace. It makes sense. Tide pool life is slow, easy to catch, and probably tasty, though there’s not a whole lot of it to be had and he supposes that the merman had to limp around from pool to pool at high tide. As he turns over thoughts in his head, the merman tips the crab up and sucks at the last of its meat with an almost obscene sound. Tony’s brain short-circuits for about ten seconds. Then he shakes his head.

“That can’t be nearly enough for a big guy like you. Wait here.” He makes his waiting gesture again and hopes that the merman will actually wait and not run. Tony has his questions after all, and it would be a shame if he didn’t get to ask them, never mind that his conversational partner clearly doesn’t speak English. Tony set the fish trap early this morning when he’d struck off on his own to check the pools up here, promising Pep and Rhodey he’d bring back all the things he caught for dinner. Too bad. They’ll be eating Spam again tonight after all.

He empties the trap into his black plastic bucket, and watches as the fish flop helplessly. He feels a little bad about it. He does every time he catches his own food. But he’s a marine biologist and he’s studied the circle of life and he knows damn well what happens to these fish on any given day, so he hauls the bucket back to the tide pool. Surprisingly, the blonde merman is still there, sitting on a dry rock now, airing his wound out in the sun.

He perks up when a fish splashes in the bucket and his focus hones in, a predator observing what is clearly his prey. Tony grins and offers the bucket, hefting it carefully on his hip. “You want some fish?”

Blondie–-Tony’s going to call him Steve, because it’s as good a name as any–-Steve nods and stares. He clearly wants some fish.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](arukou-arukou.tumblr.com) for more fanfiction and nerdery.


End file.
